


Ocean View

by pensively



Category: Star Trek: The Original Series, Star Trek: The Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Admiral James T. Kirk, Ambassador Spock, Established Relationship, Fluff, M/M, Old Married Couple, Old Married Spirk Challenge, Romance, Vulcan Kisses
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-01
Updated: 2017-11-01
Packaged: 2019-01-21 16:03:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,227
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12461166
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pensively/pseuds/pensively
Summary: After spending a month on cold, rainy Ulisia IV brokering peace between opposing factions, Jim and Spock are in desperate need of some R&R somewhere sunny and warm. A romantic beach vacation is just the thing to chase the chill from their bones and warm their hearts.





	Ocean View

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you to [druxy](https://archiveofourown.org/users/druxykexy/pseuds/druxykexy) for the support, pre-reading, and fast, excellent beta. Any errors that remain are totally my fault. 
> 
> Thank you to [plaidshirtjimkirk](https://archiveofourown.org/users/plaidshirtjimkirk/pseuds/plaidshirtjimkirk) for running the OMS Challenge and being so awesome. This challenge is one of the highlights of my (fandom) year.
> 
> Thank you to [RocknVaughn](https://archiveofourown.org/users/RocknVaughn/pseuds/RocknVaughn) for the summary help!
> 
> Title inspired by the song [Hola Hola](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=USx4WyrkfU4) by KARD.

A light sea breeze, temperate and salt-tinged, ruffled the line of Spock’s bangs. He looked up from the PADD on his lap, tapping the screen with his stylus to mark his place as he did so. The collection of scientific journals could wait; his desire to see what had sparked such joy in the mind of his bond-mate could not. His dark eyes searched the coastline, finding Jim standing chest-deep in the turquoise waters of the Gulf of Mexico. He could see Jim moving with the undulating waves, could feel the delight Jim experienced each time his body was carried back from the shore ever so slightly. Water splashed Jim’s face and he laughed, spluttering at the taste of the ocean.

His expression did not change, but Spock allowed himself to indulge in this simple feeling for a brief moment. He dug his toes into the sand at his feet, admiring the texture of the fine, pale grains rubbing against his skin and the way it emanated warmth. It was known as “sugar sand,” and though the quartz crystals bore only a superficial resemblance to the processed sucrose humans often consumed, he nevertheless found the comparison apt. If he were human, he might imagine that he could take this heat, and the sun his body soaked up so eagerly, and store them within for colder times.

Such flights of fancy were unsuited to a Vulcan schooled in the ways of logic, but the sensation was undeniably pleasant all the same. He relished the balmy weather and clean sea air after a month spent in the damp climes of Ulisia IV. As an Ambassador-at-Large, he had been dispatched to negotiate peace between the reclusive People of the Trees, an arboreal species dedicated to living off the planet’s abundant plant-life, and the Groundlings, warp-capable and enamored with all things technological. Despite their many cultural differences, the two groups had lived alongside each other for many years without incident, but the Groundlings’ thirst for industry had recently driven them to encroach upon the green spaces sacred to the People. War had seemed imminent, but preventable. It had been Spock’s task to ensure that peace prevailed.

Though their hosts had offered every courtesy, the constant rain and damp cold had seeped into old bones and awakened the ghosts of injuries past. Each night, as he and Jim had retired to their guest quarters to cocoon themselves in their many blankets, Jim had spoken longingly of where they might go once Spock had completed his task. Dr. McCoy had a vacation home on Earth, located on the Emerald Coast in Florida. Jim had felt a trip to the beach would be just the thing to chase the chill from their bodies.

It was not Spock’s nature to complain, particularly about those things that could not be changed. He found it illogical, and a waste of time and energy better spent on more worthwhile pursuits.  Ulisia IV’s climate was one such immutable thing, and yet in the privacy of their soft nest of blankets, Spock had found himself agreeing that his desert-bred body was unsuited to this weather and that a visit to Dr. McCoy’s beach house would not be unwelcome.

The doctor himself had declined to accompany them, grumbling about not wanting to be the “third wheel.” He had in fact seemed quite disgusted when Spock had informed him that a third wheel would only increase the stability of an otherwise two-wheeled vehicle, and had asked if the doctor perhaps intended to refer to a “fifth wheel”? Jim had merely laughed and thanked Dr. McCoy for the use of his beach house, accepting the old-fashioned key with a promise that it would be accompanied by a fine bottle of spirits when he returned it.

It had been a short flight from San Francisco to Florida the previous night, and a pleasant drive along the coast to the beach cottage. They’d arrived late and only taken the time for a light meal before retiring to the master suite. Ever solicitous of Spock’s comfort, Jim had risen with the dawn this morning and walked down to reserve the perfect spot for their chairs and umbrella, before the guests at the neighboring condo complex could spread out across the shared beach.

Spock reached over to the adjacent chair and plucked Jim’s towel from where it was draped over the seat back. The terrycloth was plush and sun-warm against his fingers. He held it out as Jim approached, water dripping down his pinkened skin. The droplets rolled down the curve of Jim’s belly and fell from the hem of his colorful swim trunks. Jim accepted the towel with thanks and dried himself briskly, then laid the damp towel back on the beach chair and lowered himself into it with a satisfied sigh. He crossed his sandy ankles on the footrest and brushed his elbow against Spock’s in a subtle display of affection as he settled it on the smooth wooden chair arm.

“Are you sure you won’t go in the ocean? The water’s fine. Like bathwater.”

Spock raised an eyebrow. “As we have a functioning shower in Dr. McCoy’s cottage, I see no need to bathe in the ocean.”

Jim laughed. “I only mean that it’s warm enough to be pleasant. The current is gentle, too. Good for swimming.”

“Swimming is an acceptable form of exercise,” Spock allowed, “and I am capable of doing so if necessary --  but only when necessary.”

“Fair enough,” Jim said. “Although there was that time on Belvair…”

Spock felt the barest hint of a blush rising to his cheeks and did not take the effort to suppress it. “That was very...diverting,” he admitted. “But in that instance, we were assured privacy.”

“Yes,” Jim murmured, his voice distant as if remembering in detail. “The Premier was so grateful to you for figuring out a way to cure that unusual plant disease that he gave us the run of his private beach. That was a good time.”

“It was,” Spock said. As vivid in his mind now as if it had happened yesterday, he could almost taste Belvair’s sea water. It had been less salty than Earth’s and slightly coppery, but pleasing in temperature. Jim’s body had been limned in silver from the light of Belvair’s three moons as their hands had roamed over each others’ wet skin.

Spock looked over at Jim. His cheeks were ruddy and his eyes sparkled. Their vacation was proving beneficial to his bondmate already, and to himself as well. He was pleasantly warm, the cotton fabric of the casual clothing Jim had chosen for him was smooth and comfortable against his skin, and though they were not alone on the beach, it still felt quiet and companionable in the shade of their large umbrella.

“I am...pleased that you chose this destination for our vacation, Jim.”

Jim’s lips curved in a gentle smile. “I’m glad. We deserve a break and I think the rest will do us good.” He rubbed absently at his legs, brushing away grains of sand that still clung to his calves. “Would you be okay with going out for supper tonight? I found a local restaurant that will do up a nice vegetarian meal for you if we stop in. They have rooftop dining, too. It’s supposed to be a spectacular view at sunset.”

“That sounds enjoyable.”

Jim grinned. “It will be! You, me, an Altair water for you, a fruity drink with a little umbrella for me. And a scenic view. It’ll be great.”

“Indeed,” Spock said, allowing the amusement he felt to creep into his voice. “Although I must confess I fail to understand the purpose of these miniature parasols. Their flimsy construction provides no practical benefit.”

“They don’t,” Jim said with a laugh. “But they’re fun anyway. It’s festive.” He leaned over and rummaged around in the insulated bag he’d placed between their chairs and pulled out a bottle of water and half a sandwich. “Something about swimming in the ocean always makes me hungry.”

Spock lifted his PADD and activated it once more, returning his attention to the Journal of Experimental  and Theoretical Physics. A former colleague from the Enterprise had published a fascinating article detailing her dark matter research. It was gratifying to see that a former ensign under his command had made such progress in the years since they had served together. Beside him, Jim had finished his sandwich and settled in for a nap -- his mind had gone peaceful and quiet, but he emitted a light snore with each exhalation.

Based on prior experience, Spock estimated that Jim’s snoring would increase in volume and intensity until he awakened himself with a loud snort in approximately eighteen to twenty-one minutes. Sleeping upright, as he was in the beach chair, or in the antique Queen Anne chairs they’d placed in front of their fireplace at home, frequently led to such occurrences.

Nineteen point six minutes later, Jim let out a loud, nasal grunt and jerked awake. He blinked sleepily and looked over at Spock with bleary hazel eyes. “How long was I out?”

“Nineteen point six minutes, Jim,” Spock said without looking up from his PADD.

“Nothing like a twenty minute power nap, I suppose,” Jim replied. He cleared his throat noisily and took a long drink from his water bottle. “I think I’ll go back out and splash around a bit more. The water really is amazing.”

“Then it would be wise to reapply your sunscreen.” Spock marked his place and put the PADD down once more, then handed Jim a tube of sunblock.

Jim squirted a generous dollop of the white cream into the palm of his hand and sniffed it before he began methodically applying it, starting at his feet and working his way up his legs. “You’d think with all the advances in medical science we have, with all the technology -- that we’d be able to find a better way to protect our skin than slathering messy ointments all over our bodies. We can travel through space at warp speed, but we still have to do this?”

Spock lifted an eyebrow and allowed one corner of his mouth to rise slightly. “I believe you find the process of applying sunscreen unnecessarily arduous, Jim. Typical application takes less than five point four minutes.”

“I know,” Jim grumbled. “It’s a silly thing to find annoying.” He smoothed his hands over his chest and across his clavicles, reaching up to the tops of his shoulders and down his upper arms. “Okay, I’ve got everything I can reach. Would you do my back, please?”

“Of course,” Spock said. He stood and took the sunscreen from Jim, then dispensed the correct amount into his palms, which he rubbed together to warm the thick emulsion.

Jim stood and presented his back to Spock wordlessly, tilting his head forward so that Spock could begin with the nape of his neck. Spock spread the sunscreen on Jim’s back, taking care to work it thoroughly into Jim’s skin with gentle, sweeping strokes. Jim’s skin was warm and slick beneath his fingers, and Spock traced a familiar path with his fingertips. He touched each beloved mole and freckle, caressed each muscle and slid his hands down the curves at Jim’s sides.

The contact with Jim’s skin heightened his sense of Jim’s emotions, and he could feel pleasure, comfort, gratitude, and love, a deep, abiding love, radiating from his bondmate. By Vulcan standards, caressing one’s bondmate publicly in this way would be most inappropriate, but it was logical to ensure that Jim’s skin was protected from harmful ultraviolet rays in the areas Jim could not reach himself. That Spock also took pleasure in caring for his bondmate in this way, was for only him to know and for Jim to feel through their bond.

When at last Spock was satisfied that he had thoroughly covered Jim’s back and there was no further reason to continue his ministrations, he stepped back and wiped his hands clean with his beach towel before replacing it on his chair. Jim turned and discreetly touched the tips of his index and second fingers to Spock’s, before shuffling off through the sand toward the gently rolling waves.

Spock settled back in his chair, content to watch Jim stepping into the water before resting his head against the high seat back and letting his eyes slip closed. Perhaps he would find a short rest beneficial as well. He breathed in the scent of the sea, listened to the waves’ susurrus, and luxuriated in the heat of the day. Nearby he could hear people talking, children playing, and the sound of a kite rustling in the wind high above the beach. In his mind’s eye, he saw the colorful rainbow kite moving gently against the vivid blue sky and puffy white clouds. That evening, he would dine with Jim and afterwards, they would make love in the privacy of the cottage.

With these pleasant thoughts and Jim’s enjoyment a warm presence in the back of his mind, he succumbed to the warmth and peace of his surroundings and let himself begin to fall asleep. As he drifted off, he sent a pulse of love and gratitude toward Jim for his thoughtful care. This trip had indeed been exactly what they each needed.

  
  


***


End file.
